This House to Let Part 20

"Bitterly I made up my mind that sooner or later I must cut it, and take life seriously, like the poor man I was. I belonged to a good club where I had all my letters addressed. I lodged in a little street in Bloomsbury, in cheap apartments. My friend alone knew this address.

"He would have helped me to a considerable extent, but, strange to say, considering what I did afterwards, I shrank from accepting actual cash from him."

Spencer interrupted him for a second. "You would not sponge upon your friend, instead you took to cheating your acquaintance. I take it that is what you are going to tell me."

Esmond nodded. "Quite right. I had made up my mind to cut it, and disappear from a world in which I had no right to intrude. I had even made up my mind as to the exact date at the close of the season when I would disappear, and return to the humdrum life from which my friend roused me.

"A few days before that date, something very strange happened; my life has always been full of surprises. A few weeks before the fixed date, I had made the acquaintance of a young n.o.bleman, a member of one of the best-known families in England. He was then about thirty, very handsome, very popular with both men and women. He is dead now, but, of course, I shall not mention his name, which would startle you if you heard it.

"As I have said, his family was a very distinguished one, but poor for its position. My friend, whom for the sake of convenience I will call Lord Frederick, lived in good style, never seemed short of cash, and paid his debts promptly. Those who knew were sure that he got little or no help from his family, yet he betted at race-meetings, played cards nearly every night, and lived generally the life of a man with a fair income.

"His own explanation was, that he had some intimate friends on the Stock Exchange who put him on to any good thing going. In the course of the year, according to his own account, he made a considerable sum out of racing.

"Lord Frederick, like my first friend, took considerable notice of me after we had become acquainted. Several times he invited me to his club. Afterwards he told me that he had a premonition I should be useful to him.

"I shall never forget that night when the deadly temptation came to me, when I learned what manner of rascal he was. It was the close of the season. In a very few days more I should have looked my last on this gay and alluring existence, should have ceased to lead this double life of a poor clerk by day, a young man of fas.h.i.+on by night."

Spencer suddenly interrupted. "But was there not a great risk of detection? Were you never recognised in the City by some chance West End acquaintance."

"Up to then, no. Of course, I must have been found out in time, if only from the suspicious circ.u.mstance that I could never accept any day invitations. This was one of the reasons that weighed most strongly with me in the resolve to give it up. I could not bear the thought that the Tommy Esmond who bore himself so bravely in his new world, who had managed to outlive all curiosity as to his antecedents, should be discovered in his true colours, a poor City drudge in an insurance office.

"To return to my story. I had dined with Lord Frederick at the --. No, I will not give the name of the club, one of the most exclusive in London: it might put you on his track. He had ordered a choice dinner, and he plied me liberally with wine. My heart was very full at the prospect of having to say good-bye to this luxurious life, in a very few days' time.

"After dinner we went into the smoking-room, which was nearly empty, as most of the members had left London. There were only two other occupants, and they were at the far end of the apartment. Practically, we had the place to ourselves.

"He urged me strongly to take a trip over to Paris as his guest. I should have loved to go, but the wrench had to be made some time, it might as well be made now. Besides, I was heavily in debt, for a poor man, and I had not the cash to purchase the necessary outfit for such a trip.

"He would not accept my first refusal, but tried to persuade me into reconsidering. When I still persisted, he bluntly asked me my reasons.

"As I have said, I was very depressed that night at the prospect of all I was saying good-bye to. This mood was responsible for my blurting out a great portion of the absolute truth.

"I explained to him that I had already accepted too much of his hospitality, which my circ.u.mstances did not enable me to return, that I could no longer take advantage of his generosity.

"After this avowal, he did not speak for some little time, all the while regarding me with an intense gaze that embarra.s.sed me very much.

"`Thanks for telling me the truth,' he said at length. `Your confidence is quite safe with me.' He added after a pause, `So you are a poor man, in spite of the fact that your appearance does not suggest the fact.

Well, I may tell you that from the first moment I made your acquaintance I was pretty certain you were.'

"I told him a little more. `I am so poor,' I said frankly, `that I cannot afford to keep up appearances any longer. In a few days I shall leave a world I ought never to have entered. Anyway, it is the last time I shall dine with you, and I don't suppose we shall ever meet again, unless we run across each other by chance in a very different sphere.'

"`You have absolutely made up your mind to do this, for the reasons you have given?' he asked presently.

"`Absolutely,' I replied. `I may say it is Hobson's choice. I am heavily in debt. If I cut my wants down to next to nothing, it will take me a year to pay off what I owe.' I laughed bitterly--`Unless I turned thief, I could not possibly go on.'

"`I don't want to force your confidence,' was Lord Frederick's next remark. `But having had a taste of this rather glittering world, I presume you will leave it with considerable regret.'

"`I dare not say what I feel,' I said with conviction. `It seems to me that in the old life to which I am returning I shall suffer the tortures of lost souls.'

"Then he shot at me an extraordinary question. `I wonder whether you would care to become a partner in my business?'

"My heart suddenly grew light. Was there a chance that I could still keep on, that through his a.s.sistance I could find a decently paid occupation? After all, I only wanted a few hundreds a year more. A bachelor can live in the best society on comparatively little, but he must have that little, and the insurance office did not furnish it.

"`If I were competent enough,' I faltered.

"He smiled; I thought there was a little touch of a sneer in that smile.

`Oh, I think you would be competent enough. But I am not at all sure that you would like the business sufficiently.'

"`I can't say positively, of course, till I know the nature of it. But I don't think I should be very difficult to please, nor do I want any extravagant remuneration, just enough to keep up a decent appearance.'

"`The share would be half, neither more nor less,' he said curtly; then he relapsed into a long silence, as if he were thinking very hard.

"When he spoke it was in a low, strained voice. `Look here, Esmond, I don't know very much of you. But I believe you to be a gentleman. The business I am engaged in is a very peculiar one, and it is more than probable it will not appeal to you. If you refuse, you are to give me your word of honour that this conversation between us shall be forgotten.'

"I gave him more than my word, I added my solemn oath that I would never divulge a syllable.

"I had for some little time felt that there was a mystery about him. I hazarded to myself that he was perhaps engaged in some spying work repugnant to any man of fine susceptibilities but quite remunerative.

"I was startled, and to an extent horrified, by what he told me. He was a professional card-sharper, made his living by robbing his rich acquaintances. He had been at the game since he was twenty-five.

"`I do pretty well, as you can guess, by the way in which I live,' he remarked at the conclusion of his strange confession. `But with a smart confederate, and I am sure you would prove one, I could quadruple my gains. One is hampered by working alone. It's a scoundrel's business, of course. But I can always persuade myself I am not really doing very much harm, certainly not as much as the swindling sort of company-promoter. I win money from rich fools, rob them, if you like; it does at least as much good in my pockets as theirs.'

"I suppose there was already some moral kink in me waiting to blossom forth under proper encouragement. For though I was very much startled, I cannot say that I was profoundly shocked, as I might have been by a less subtle form of robbery.

"I did not accept or refuse that night, I wanted to think. I knew it was the turning of the ways. On the one hand well-paid roguery, with the accompanying delights of the fas.h.i.+onable world, on the other the deadly, drab life of the poor City drudge. In the morning my mind was made up. I went into partners.h.i.+p with my new friend."

"And you made a fortune, I suppose?" asked Spencer, in a very cold voice.

Esmond shook his head, and Spencer was not at all sure that the next words were truthful ones.

"No, a comfortable living, nothing more. We made a good deal, but we had to lose a good deal, too, in order to avert suspicion."

"Your friend is dead, you say. So you went on with it after his death?"

"Yes, for a little time alone. Then I, too, got in a partner, the man who was with me to-night."

There was a long silence between the two men. Spencer broke it first.

"And what are your plans?" he asked.

"I shall sneak out of the country to-morrow morning and make my way to France. I shall hide myself in some little out-of-the-way village under an a.s.sumed name, and rust out." The little man rose and looked at his former friend with an embarra.s.sed air. "Well, thanks for having listened to me so patiently. It has been a tremendous relief to me to pour it all out."

He did not offer his hand, for he felt certain it would not be taken.

Spencer stopped him as he was at the door.

"You have money, I suppose, something put by out of your--your winnings?"

Esmond's voice was hesitating. Again it was very doubtful if he was speaking the truth. "Hardly a _sou_ out of them. It was lightly come, lightly go, all the time. But my father left me a little bit which will keep me going in a cheap place."

Spencer did not believe him. The probability was he had put away safely a snug little nest-egg, in view of the detection which might come at any moment of such a hazardous occupation.